


Nighttime Fear

by thirium_bae



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Language, Light Smut, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 02:53:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18002450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirium_bae/pseuds/thirium_bae
Summary: He is a fear you succumb to until his true face reveals itself…





	Nighttime Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](https://thirium-bae.tumblr.com/) for an original prompt in my follower/reader appreciation week...
> 
> Prompt: "Then perish."

_You never knew daylight could be so violent…_

Night becomes a better way to die most assuredly. Revelations unfold live as all falls down in a blink. Broadcast for all to witness and this conversation stops before it begins. No more fight in endless hope. Endless despair replaces unkindly but final. It fails. There is no more chance. Gunned down, left to rot in the snow like nothing. 

It sickens you to watch. So much it hurts to see what they have done that you no longer have courage to face this truth. All those androids -  _obliterated_. 

Switching off television does not switch off panic. Silence only drives the stake further center of your heart. 

_Connor!_

Where is he? They won’t take him. Please.

Your body sinks. Attempting to bury into safety of cushions they are nothing more than a fabricated security. Soft surroundings but hardest of hearts turn to stone and shut down the life that remains. 

Laying a head atop arm of the couch, one single harbor to anchor, you stare off. Nothing in particular holds interest or thought. You merely exist. Waiting, praying for a sign but part of this so-called strength that carries you throughout is cracking. Drawing eyes to door it is a foolish hope because he will not come. Appearing over threshold enables frantic, happy swoop of your arms to snake around his tall form. Even if it may be awkward still but it will be worth your sanity. 

Sleep overtakes tears, doubts and ultimate fears. Exhaustion defeats you and silence becomes your tomb. Then a thunderous  _crack_  commands your door.

Banging in a louder echo is overactive imagination. You are so tired. It rouses you sharply drawing you from the position weariness placated you to. This time it is fierce. Movement brings out not only a jolt up to feet but thudding of heart. 

Another crack, specific and unremitting for entry vibrates its surface. They will not leave. 

Caught up confused as you wake so quick pulls you to answer. A small hope bubbles but immediately fades. No, of course it is not who you think. How can it be? 

Still you unlock with vigor. Opening quickly ready to pounce on whoever decides to come here when everything falls apart around the city. Those plans cease their existence meeting those  _eyes_. 

A brief shock rattles. He is no illusion. Solid, alive and –

“Connor?” 

Chocolate fire cinders down to the quick of your soul and he does not verbally greet. He physically bounds. 

Strong, insistent hands clash with your soft humanity to drag you inside as his mouth collides. The android slams the door shut blocking out any who will come to interrupt. He has you now. He will take every last piece to mark with his scent claiming tender flesh in brutal domination. 

Thumping you heavily into wall unleashes every caged carnivore hungering behind his walls. Free and broken he will choose how this deviancy spreads fire just as you infect subconscious acidity. 

What’s gotten into Connor?! He’s an untamed beast sweet in temperament but ruthless in vivacity. Nearly weeping at the magnitude of passion you are at his mercy. You  _like_  it. No. You  _love_  it. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would enjoy the roughness so well. Already your legs tremble, a tight twist forcing an unbearably pleasant pool between legs.  

The moment he purposely slides  _his_  leg, pushing knee between and into your groin you gasp uncontrollably. Spreading your legs apart, leaning his tall, lithe frame into you so headily; a shudder unmakes whatever composure is left in the physical armor you adorn. 

He tears through. Casting aside a shield of your making, he dismantles self control. At his mercy, whimpering into the android’s surprisingly hot mouth, desire pools center of your orbit.

Long fingers invade past the swatch of fabric, searching for your heat and he finds the sweet slickness, wet splendor that gives all of your cravings away. An open book your pages spread and the android enjoys the moans pouring salaciously up throat. 

He bites into the skin clamping over pulse. Internal analysis floods vision. Arousal spikes in a shiver he absorbs like a parasite living off your essence.

You grab back at him. Needing to be closer than you have, melting away mortal flesh with his corrosive love. Scalding transcends this spiritual plane that grounds you. For him you will,  _must_  float.

_Oh_ , please  **yes**.

Take this turmoil befalling Detroit away. There is only a ravenous prince made of plastic and synthetics. But you do not care. He is exquisite fire boiling the blood through tissue.

“Connor, I-I want you,” whispering up into his lips ascends your spirit. “I’ve wanted you since you  _first_ …!” 

A yelp overtakes the rush of confessions in his abrupt snag of hips. Forcing you from between his chest and wall he roughly moves your body. Stronger than anything you will ever witness the android hoists effortlessly, hungry, needy for the slick warmth his fingers kissed. He wants it around him in a luscious sheath all for him. 

Dropping you down upon freshly washed bedding pumps more than a frantic heart. Anticipating drives your body in reaction to what’s to come. Knowing how quickly he scanned interior of small flat only drives this ache. He made haste to plant you sprawled on the bed, which seemed so much further away in the beginning of this dance. 

Cool fingers snake underneath your shirt riding up the fabric slowly. His lips twist in a predatory grin. Something devilish prickles, needles stabbing at you while watching his face. How can he appear so different but so right? Never have you witnessed such hunger in his eyes. It crumbles you. Gladly you dissipate, allowing swift undress; your head thrusts to pillow, fluffy groundwork to soften the blow of this love. 

A wet flick touches skin traveling up torso greedily tasting. This android’s tongue becomes a weapon bent on destruction. Oh, how you want to be destroyed. 

“ _Mmm_ ,” a huff answers him sweetly. 

He is neither sweet nor gentle. Your back arches as you desperately try to stopper your cry of pain. His bite is sharp. Sinking into flesh, pulling mercilessly like tenderized meat off the bone. 

Even as kisses crash harsh in a bid to brand you eternally there is something gnawing. Despite wanting this with Connor you cannot help but wonder how different he seems. Not a word spoken, simply feasting upon you as a banquet readily displayed for a private party. Realizing that this is his private affair all you can do is lie back in wait. 

“Connor, are you-?”

“Be  _still_ _!_ ” the android’s voice deepens, growling impatiently.

Pining arms above head, sliding atop he breathes artificially into your shoulder. Inhaling you pushes the android’s strings, groaning between the friction of plastered bodies. 

Writhing beneath his heavy frame to a private tune in your mind does not completely blind. As he pulls back from between your legs to remove jacket it’s the first time this fatalistic passion subsides. You see it then. The serial number:  _313-248-317-60_. 

**60**

Your eyes widen at the dawning realization. Wafting over arousal and increasing a tremor in your stomach. All of it washes away as a stain slowly ebbing from its tarnish. Goosebumps attack now in an entirely different way and when he slithers back towards you, coiling up your previously willing, shivering body you internally scream. 

“You’re not Connor!” 

Pushing at his chest hurls you off the side of bed. Landing in a tangling thud increases your anxieties. All this time it wasn’t even him. It was - 

“Who the hell are you?!” 

Crossing arms over chest doesn’t prevent the fact he’s already seen everything. Maybe not every piece because you still have jeans hanging on hips, unzipped but all the same. 

“ _Tsk_. I wondered how long before you saw my serial.” Standing tall, moving away from unsettled bed brings him close as an imposing force to punish your wildest dreams. He analyzes the quick pace of your heart still thudding in arousal. “I would have made you scream. That can still be arranged.” 

Everything down to the last detail is Connor except it’s not him. This can only mean one horrible thing. 

“I have his memories uploaded,” the Cyberlife enforcer needles you. Smug he is victorious because destruction felled the original prototype and his alcoholic waste of a partner. “Memories of you. So sweet, so soft. Driving the disease of deviancy in every circuit. He -  _loved_  you I think.” 

Tears collect abundantly listening to truths in all too familiar husky voice but somehow raspier, darker. The voice of Connor reverberates out of a mechanized monster. 

“When I uploaded them I felt a curious urge,” RK800-60 explains partially his desire to destroy. 51 fell to knees riddled with entirety of magazine. Still it was not enough. It did not satisfy to use one mere kill shot. Aggression flooded his sensors overheating processors and the only way to appease became a symphony of gunfire. Slaughtering instead of simply stopping rages this beast inside and still it claws to break out. He narrows burnished, bleak and terror, a game of wolf and rabbit. How juicy you remain on his tongue  _little rabbit_.

“I wanted to be the one.” He admits his own deviancy. “The victor. I am Connor as much as Connor was he. I can be yours, Y/N.” 

Yours? Oh, God! No! 

“Get away from me!” Screaming angrily, repulsed with how much you adored, begged for what he was about to give brews an incredible guilt. How long was this going to go on? What if you never took notice? What if he was too powerful in his fervor, exalting you to heights unknown you could not to stop yourself  _from_  -? 

Impossible to comprehend because this is not your Connor. You would never want anyone else. 

_Are you so sure?_  

A tiny voice out from the dark questions each breath that spills from your lips, each thought that convinces yourself. How sure are you? 

Standing here facing a torrent of unfathomable, plentiful carnage, his carnage glorious and gratifying. He pushed you to the wall ravenous. Immediately you responded in a tango of fantasy rivaling the most sacred of secrets in the heart. He hurled you to the bed insatiable. Light bloomed inside aching to be taken, pulsating for his majesty. 

_You_  wanted  **him**. A violent storm laying waste to foundations those same ones held for what he represents.  _Connor._  He is gone. It is so obvious. 

A flood happens bursting the dam shielding your strength. This thing that is not him….how you crash into his sea. Turbulent and bottomless waiting to drown you and he almost did. 

“I want you to get out…” 

**Weakness.**   _Savory wetness_. He smells it. The android reads beyond words. All vitals point to what you really want. RK800-60 tilts his head in sadistic satisfaction. 

“I will make a deal with you, Y/N.” 

The minute he speaks everything sinks down into your stomach. This time it is not the affectionate twist of butterflies. Taking flight for who you naively believed to be Connor; your eyes trail up the identical android equally tall and piercing insides with dark hubris. 

His eyes may be the same color but something deeper shimmers. An endless abyss made of pure malignity. Deeper than the most subterranean sea trench pulls you down until air no longer bathes lungs. 

Quicksand is more merciful. How far you sink is your choice. 

“Pretend none of this ever happened.” The android offers a calculating solution. Humans are known to be fickle. As he stands here now, watching as a bird of prey, hawkish but serene in his imposing stance. 

RK800-60 holds onto that machine persona. An influx of software instability following unwarranted connection to 51 does not completely vanquish Cyberlife’s protocols. 

He is the assassin a wisp in the night moving undetected, shadow and smoke, night terror  ** _divine_**. Silent necrosis spreads across city infectious, crippling all in his name. His actions mean an unsuccessful end to revolution but it does not have to end for you. 

“Forget that Connor stepped foot inside Cyberlife Tower. And love  _me_  instead.” 

_Is he insane?!_  

“No.” Absolute disgust slips around one syllable but it is every pain, each denial you can stab into his artificial exterior. No. You cannot. If you do can you live with your decision? Throwing away the memory of the original for a copy that uploaded  _his_  memory but is still not him.

Sixty’s smug aura evaporates. Watching you move hastily snaps his fingers onto your arm. Wrenching you close they release to steeple around your throat, holding vice with minimal pressure. 

“Then  ** _perish_**.” 

Hissing against ear jolts you into him and he revels the synthesis of horror and prurience. Willingly you allow contact without much fight before he encircles you this way. 

RK800-60 fondles your earlobe with the tip of his tongue. “I will  ** _fuck_**  the heart out of you.  _Little rabbit_.” 

“ _OK_.” 

Weakly you give in. From the beginning he knew you would. What does this make you? What hell will you bring forth? 

Self destruction will be your fate for this. Somehow writ in stone moment you allowed him to enter. Now he enters your mouth all forked tongue and demoniac consumption. He eats you alive. Yet you welcome it. 

You cannot let go of this face. Even in the possession of a fearsome pretender.


End file.
